


133. sinner

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [184]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “Hm,” Helena says. “The nuns would say it is God’s fault, because I am a devil and I have to be punished.” She looks back at Sarah. “Do I kill the nuns? I don’t remember.”Her eyes are so utterly blank. She’s scarier like this than she ever was as an adult; that is a terrible thing to think about a child, but Sarah can’t take it back once she’s thought it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [281\. sand castles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726050) by [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09). 



Helena just won’t get older. She’s been like this for over a week, now, young and solemn, stealing food from their cabinets and hiding it all over the house. Sarah has given up on trying to braid Helena’s hair into pigtails and now it falls, tangled and brown, around her eerie child’s face. She runs amok. Both of them get more and more frustrated, but for different reasons.

“Am I being punished,” Helena says abruptly, and Sarah is awake. Helena is crouching over her in her bed, like some story about nightmares. Her eyes are glossyblack in the dark.

“Jesus Christ, Helena, the bloody sun’s not even up,” Sarah says plaintively. Helena doesn’t answer. Sarah groans, sits up, turns on the light. Helena somehow does not look less eerie when the light is on.

“What was that?” Sarah says, running a hand through her hair. “No, we’re not – nobody’s mad at you, Helena.”

Helena shakes her head irritably. “No,” she says. “I mean this. You don’t want me like this. Nobody does. I see it. They want other-Helena back. So do you.”

“It’d be nice to have her back, yeah,” Sarah concedes, “but that’s not – your fault, yeah?”

“It is,” Helena says. “I told you. I have dreams. I dream about you. And also about the other yous, that aren’t you. And I kill them.” She frowns, expression almost adorable. “Or I did. Did I? Did she? Other me.”

God, this is the worst time to have this conversation. Hell o’clock. “I…” Sarah says, and then feels herself do some sort of awkward twisting attempt at a shrug. “Yeah? But you – you’re better now.” Probably.

“So I didn’t kill people anymore.”

“I mean,” Sarah says, “you – you did sometimes, but not—”

“It’s okay,” Helena says. She looks completely unperturbed. “When I was with the nuns, before I came here, I wanted people dead all the time. I still want people dead sometimes. So. I am not a baby. I will not cry, or scream, or be scared.” She scratches her nose nonchalantly. “But. If the deaths were bad. Is that why I am like this again? Because I am being punished?”

Sarah just blinks at her for a second. She can’t help it. Her kid self would’ve thrown a fit and then vomited, probably, if Sarah had told her she’d grow up to be a serial killer – and that’s not even mentioning the fact that Helena has _dreamed_ about it. Helena _remembers_. And she’s not frightened. And she thinks it’s some sort of _cause_.

The silence has been going on for too long. Helena is sucking on the ends of her hair; when she sees Sarah looking, she lets the strands fall out of her mouth with a _pop_. “Peanut butter,” she says, by way of explanation.

“Great,” Sarah says faintly. “And – no, Helena, it’s not – don’t think you’re being _punished_ , it’s just – some weird shit, yeah? Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault.”

“Could it be God?”

“I…don’t know,” Sarah says. “Sorry.”

“Hm,” Helena says. “The nuns would say it is God’s fault, because I am a devil and I have to be punished.” She looks back at Sarah. “Do I kill the nuns? I don’t remember.”

Her eyes are so utterly blank. She’s scarier like this than she ever was as an adult; that is a terrible thing to think about a child, but Sarah can’t take it back once she’s thought it. She can’t say _I don’t know_ again, either, so all that’s left to her is this silence. She swallows, and breaks it. “You might have,” she says. “You didn’t talk about it.”

Helena makes a scrunched-up, angry face. “Stupid,” she says. “Useless stupid old Helena. I hope she killed them. I hope the next time I dream I remember it. I hope it felt good.” She blinks, fast, and looks at Sarah: wide-eyed. “Is that bad. Am I being bad. Is that why she won’t come back.”

_Yes_ , Sarah thinks.

“No,” Sarah says, “’course not. They sounded like real shit.”

“They were,” Helena says. “Are. They are very shit.”

“Can I sleep here tonight,” she says, wrenching the conversation completely off its track. “I like you.” She stares at Sarah, eyes serious and very sincere. There is no good way to say no, and Helena probably knows it.

“Yeah, sure,” Sarah says awkwardly. “I’m gonna turn the light out, yeah?”

Helena doesn’t answer, just stares at her. Sarah turns the light out and gets back under the covers – at which point Helena burrows as close to her as possible, tiny elbows jabbing all of Sarah’s soft places. “Good night,” she whispers loudly.

“Night,” Sarah says. Helena’s breathing slows and evens out within seconds; she’s asleep, sighing against Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah lies there in the dark. She is wide awake.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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